The Making of Ezra Standish
by PsychedelicCowgirl
Summary: It's taken a lot for Ezra to become the man he is now. A lot of loss, a lot of heartache, a lot of memories, and maybe a few run-ins with the law. Will follow Ezra's life beginning with his childhood. Rating will likely go up.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Welcome to my Ezra story. This is just a prologue and the next chapter will start up with Ezra's childhood. Went ahead and posted this because I'm having a bit of writer's block on my Maude story. Hope you enjoy and feel free to tell me what you think.**

_Disclaimer: I don't own The Magnificent Seven and I'm making no profit from this story. _

Ezra Standish leaned back in his chair and dismally studied the amber liquid in the glass before him. He really didn't want the drink, he'd asked for it more out of habit than anything, and he feared if he started in on drinking now he'd wouldn't stop till he was good and drunk. And nothing much good happened when Ezra got drunk. Sighing, he pushed the drink away and slumped down in the chair.

He wasn't sure what was bothering him the most at the moment, the betrayal by his mother or by his friends. If he could honestly call it a betrayal at all. He knew by now he shouldn't be surprised by anything his mother did. As for Nathan, JD, even Josiah, well, Maude had a way of getting people to do whatever she wanted them to, and that was something he knew all to well. But it was still hard for him to conceive that his mother would purposely force her own son, her only son, out of business. _She didn't know_. He hastily reminded himself. He'd been telling himself that all day in an effort to ease the sting of his mother's betrayal, and while it did little to lift his mood it did keep him from becoming to angry with Maude over her actions. _She didn't know_.

Ezra wanted to believe that Maude would have behaved differently had she known the truth, and honestly he did. Maude wasn't really as hard and unfeeling as she allowed most people to believe. That front was only a part of her defenses, a part of her training Ezra had taken to heart and liberally applied himself over the years. In a way it surprised him that Maude had been ignorant of the fact the saloon had been his investment and his alone. She had always made it a practice to find out as much about a situation as she could before going into it, then again, Ezra's honest business endeavor was so against everything she'd taught him it probably never occurred to her to wonder where the money had come from.

_She didn't know. _Well, maybe she hadn't known, maybe things would have been different if she had, but none of that changed the fact that he'd lost his saloon and his mother had taken it. Despite his belief that Maude wasn't so heartless as to knowingly rip her own son's dream away from him, Ezra knew it was going to take a little time to completely forgive this grievance. In the meantime he'd just set here in what used to be his saloon and tell himself over and over again. _She didn't know_.

* * *

Inez was the only other person in the saloon besides himself so it was impossible for Ezra to not notice the figure that pushed through the batwing doors a while later. Ezra's eyes followed his fellow peacekeeper as Vin made his way across the room. "Mr. Tanner." Ezra deadpanned when Vin stopped in front of him.

"Ezra." Vin sounded a little nervous.

Ezra pushed a chair out with his foot. "Join me. Perhaps we can drown our sorrows together." Vin sank into the chair and Ezra couldn't help but notice the man didn't look like he really wanted to be here. The others had given him a large berth since his mother had left and Ezra wondered if Vin was here of his own choosing or he had simply "drawn the short straw". Ezra wasn't really in the mood to talk but if he was going to be coerced into discussing this manner he'd rather it be with Vin than anyone else.

In the two years he'd been here Ezra had come to care about every one of his comrades but he couldn't deny that there were some he'd rather have serious discussions with than others. Buck and JD both had a tendency to run their months and not know when was the best time to shut up. And as much as he liked Josiah there were times Ezra couldn't make heads or tails out of what the man was actually trying to say. He got along fine with Nathan now on most days but the healer was still a bit quick to judge and after what had happened with his mother Ezra wasn't feeling particularly gracious toward the black man at the moment. And while he had nothing but the utmost respect for Chris, the gunslinger was about the last person Ezra would choose to have a heart-to-heart with. That left Vin, and Ezra suspected everyone else knew that just as well as he did.

"You can even appropriate my drink." Ezra said pushing the glass in Vin's direction. Then he leaned back folded his hands and waited. He didn't want to talk but it was obvious the others were going to make him so they might as well get it over with.

Vin took a healthy swallow of the whiskey and a deep breath before he spoke. "How do you stand it, Ez?"

"How do I stand what, Mr. Tanner?" Ezra asked, not even bothering to correct Vin for his use of the nickname.

"Your ma. Every time she comes to town it's like she has it in for you. How do you stand it?"

Ezra gave his friend a long look before answering. Was this what they all thought? That his mother was out to get him. There was a time Ezra would've agreed but that had been years ago. His mother had her reasons, and although they seemed a bit misguided at times he understood them...mostly. "My mother's a businesswoman, Vin. She has her reasons for everything. I learned that long ago."

"But she's your mother. Don't it bother you that she don't..."

Ezra's eyes narrowed as Vin trailed off. Was Vin implying what Ezra thought he was? "Despite her faults I do love my mother and I don't doubt her love for me." Ezra heard the edge that had crept into his voice and judging by the slight flush coloring Vin's cheeks, the tracker had heard it too. Ezra knew his friends didn't understand Maude's ways, _he_ didn't understand a lot of them, but he wouldn't allow them believe that his mother didn't care for him. He knew she did, she just had some unconventional ways of showing it.

Taking a breath Ezra tried to even his voice back out before he spoke again. "Vin, my mother hasn't always been the way she is now. There was a time when we were very happy together." He looked down and twisted the ruby ring on his left ring finger. "I was five when I lost my father. In a way I suppose I lost my mother at that time as well."

Vin nodded. After a moment he spoke again. "I'm sorry you had to do this alone."

"What?" Ezra asked, confused by the sudden shift in the conversation.

"This." Vin replied, nodding his head to indicate the saloon.

Ezra snorted. Only Vin could have spent the last few days fighting for his life then lose his best chance at clearing his name and apologize for not being there to help. "I believe you had rather pressing matters of your own to attend to." Maybe that was why the others had sent Vin. Since Vin had been dealing with his own problems he hadn't been in the middle of Ezra's war with his mother and therefore, Ezra didn't have anything to hold against him.

"I'm still sorry."

Ezra shrugged. "There will be other endeavors. So, Mr. Tanner." Ezra flashed that cocky, self-assured grin of his that told everyone around him, except those who knew him best, that he was on top of the world and all but invincible. "Would you care to join me in a real drink? I think perhaps we can persuade Senorita Rocios to fetch us a bottle of my personal bourbon. We can toast to the loss of dreams." The loss of the saloon stung and it would for a while, but Ezra had hit it big and almost immediately lost it all before. He would eventually shake this off and consider it another hard learned lesson, which is what he was sure had been his mother's goal all along. Although, he still wasn't sure what exactly he was to have learned from this, except never go head-to-head with Maude Standish, and he was certain that wasn't what his mother had had in mind. But until he could forget the sting of betrayal he would remember his mother as she had been in the daguerreotype he kept in his room, young, happy, carefree, and very much in love with her boys. And he would tell himself as often his he needed to hear it, _She didn't know._


	2. When the Memories Start

**A/N: First, Sorry it's taken a while to update. After trying for days to bang out something decent I finally found an approach I'm happy with. Secondly, I said before that this chapter would start the trip into Ezra's childhood but after many rewrites I decided there needed to be a little something extra before that. Thirdly, thank all y'all so much for your support. Your reviews, follows, and favorites are encouraging and truly appreciated. **

Ezra and Vin shared several drinks in silence, both feeling that what had needed to be said had been, before Ezra pushed back from the table. "If you'll excuse me, Mr. Tanner, I'll take my leave now."

"You're all right?" Vin asked.

Ezra grinned, his gold tooth shining. "Naturally. Feel free to finish off the bourbon." He said as he walked past Vin and made his way up the stairs before the tracker had a chance to say anything else.

Once he was in his room Ezra blow out a breath. He had done his part. He had talked. Vin could now go back and tell everyone Ezra wasn't ready to string any of them up and he wasn't drinking himself into oblivion, which is what they were probably afraid of. But, while he'd been glad of Vin's company for a while what he really wanted now was to be alone. Alone with his thoughts and memories.

Jerking off his jacket, Ezra throw it over a chair. He didn't feel like hanging I up now. His guns, waistcoat, and tie quickly joined the red jacket haphazardly on the chair. Giving his boots a rather unceremonious kick into the corner he slipped his spenders from his shoulders and yanked his shirt off. It was only then that he crossed over to the dresser where he gently deposited his ruby ring and gold watch. They were the only belongings of his that would receive any special care tonight.

Ezra ran his hands through his hair with a heavy sigh before he gave the daguerreotype on the dresser a look. He felt a pang when he saw the framed image of the young family setting beside his ring and watch, the ring and watch that had once belonged to the young man in the picture. A ring and a watch that, if life was fair, wouldn't have found their way into Ezra's possession for many years yet. But life wasn't fair, life was what it was, and one had to find a way to deal with it.

Picking up the picture Ezra fell back on his bed and studied the three people in the photograph. The woman was easily recognizable. His mother had lost none of her beauty through the years. On her lap set a four-year-old who had patiently endured the ordeal of being photographed due to the promise of ice cream. Behind the pair stood the man Ezra had idolized. A man who shared many of Ezra's features. And although the expressions of the three were solemn there was an undisguised joy about the family.

Sighing once more Ezra dropped the family portrait on the bed beside him. It was on rare occasions like this that Ezra let his mind wonder to the past and he wondered what that family would be like now if his father hadn't of died, if Maude's other four marriages had not happened, if a war hadn't torn his country apart. But wondering about what might have been was a waste of time. The only thing he could really do was remember what had been and as painful as it might be that was exactly what Ezra planned on doing tonight. Tonight in the safety and solitude of his room he would think about the past, and he would think long and hard about it.

**A/N: Well, that was insanely short but I do hope you'll forgive me. Next chapter will be up soon. Promise. **


	3. The First Time

Patrick Standish always had a deck of cards in his position. In fact, Ezra's earliest memory concerned his father and a deck of cards. He hadn't been quite three at the time, and although there were some who said children couldn't remember things from that young an age, the moment was very clearly burned into his memory.

Patrick was sitting in front of small table in the Standish's room expertly shuffling and dealing the cards when Ezra went over and wormed his way up in between his father's arms. Patrick bent down and kissed the top of Ezra's head before continuing with his cards, while Ezra leaned back against his daddy and watched the cards being repeatedly shuffled, cut, dealt, and collected. Ezra stayed silent as he watched the fluid and seemingly effortless actions of his father with rapt attention.

After several times of repeating the actions without hearing a sound from his son Patrick lifted Ezra up onto his lap while he collected the cards with his free hand. "See these, Ez?" Patrick asked as he fanned the cards out. "These ain't just cards, Son, they're tools. If a man learns how to use them correctly he can make them do anything he wants them to, anything. One day I'm gonna teach you how to use them and then you'll be the best there's ever been."

There was a lot from that day Ezra didn't remember but that brief snippet of his young life was as clear as any other memory he possessed, and it never left him. From that day on the cards, as well as the man dealing them, left a permanent mark on him.

* * *

It was several months after the incident with the cards that Ezra went to the club with his father for the first time. Maude was planning on spending the day going calling with Mrs. Fallon and Patrick had agreed to take full charge of Ezra while she was gone. It turned out to be an entirely new experience for both the Standish boys. Ezra wasn't accustomed to having someone stay with him who had nothing to do but spend time with him and he took full advantage of the opportunity of having someone's undivided attention. As for Patrick, while he immensely enjoyed any time he got to spend with his son, never before had he been solely responsible for him for an entire day and after a couple of hours he found himself at a loss on how to keep the young boy entertained. It was during this moment Patrick received a flash of inspiration to take Ezra to see the club Lafayette.

It wasn't long before the two of them were heading down to the club where Patrick preferred to work his trade. Although the walk took longer than normal, as Ezra had to stop and study countless flowers and rocks as well as every horse they passed, Patrick didn't complain about the frequent stops. "There it is, Ez." Patrick finally said causing Ezra to look up from his latest discovery. "The Club Lafayette."

Ezra abandoned the latest object that had claimed his attention to look at the building across the street. "Is that where you play cards?"

"Sometimes." Was his daddy's simple reply. Taking Ezra's hand the pair walked across the street and paused outside the large, oak doors before going in. "Remember Ezra, you can't be loud or unruly in here, all right? You have to act like a gentleman."

Ezra nodded solemnly in reply. He was starting to get very curious about what exactly the club was. Daddy had told him several times during their walk he had to be a gentleman, and when Daddy repeated something it meant he was very serious about it.

He didn't have long to wonder however, before Patrick lead him in, and from the moment Ezra stepped through the door he was awe struck by the Lafayette. He had never seen anyplace so immaculate. Not even Mr. and Mrs. Fallon's house, who had the biggest, prettiest house Ezra had ever seen, looked like this. Everywhere he looked there were plush carpets and crystal lamps and polished oak tables. It was a visual feast for his young eyes and he took in every detail he could.

Ezra walked with with Patrick in absolute silence through the main foyer and into another room were several men were sitting around. Some were smoking cigars and reading papers while others were engaged in card games, but they all looked up when the duo walked in. "Find you a new poker partner, Standish?" One man asked.

"The best there is." Patrick answered with a grin.

"I dare say he's the only one that can best you." Someone else cut in.

Ezra smiled when he heard the new voice. That was Mr. Fallon.

Fallon came over and knelt down in front of him. "How are you today, Master Standish?"

"Very well, Mr. Fallon." Ezra replied, grinning. He knew how to be a gentleman with Mr. Fallon.

"Are you going to introduce the rest of us, Standish?" The first man asked coming over.

Patrick looked at the man with a smirk. "Ez, this is Mr. Barton. He's a friend of mine. John, my son, Ezra."

"Well, Master Standish, I've heard a great deal about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Barton offered his hand and Ezra cast Patrick an uncertain look. When Patrick gave him an encouraging nod Ezra took the man's hand. "It's a pleasure, Mr. Barton." Ezra said.

Barton chuckled. "Teaching him to charm people already?"

"One is never to young to be charmin'." Patrick said.

After meeting Mr. Barton, Patrick picked Ezra up and made his way around the room, introducing Ezra and letting the young boy's charms work their magic on the rest of the men. By the time they had finished Ezra had most of the members and all the staff of the club wrapped around his finger and ready to be at his beck and call. Soon the majority of the men were gathered around Ezra as the boy kept them entertained with his endless conversation and all the wit and wisdom his almost four-year-old self possessed.

* * *

Once he was sure his son was being looked after Patrick made his way over to one of them felt topped tables. Bringing Ezra here had worked out much better than he had ever hoped. He had assumed they would come walk around a bit and go home, as it was neither Ezra nor his fellow members seemed ready to see the visit end. He could hear Ezra's steady stream of chatter and he grinned as he picked up a deck of cards.

He had wondered if this was really a place for a child as young as Ezra but watching his son now put any fears Patrick had to rest. Ezra was fitting in quite well, and while bringing Ezra along might have been a bit unorthodox, Patrick couldn't imagine a better way for a father and son to spend the day together. However, It would probably be best if Maude didn't hear about this part of their day.

**A/N: I plan on the first two or three chapters being mostly fluff between Ezra and Patrick, the poor man has to have some happy memories. I'm also going to do my best to keep things mainly in Ezra's point of view however, writing for a child this young is hard. So, on occasion, I may let someone else have the spotlight for just a bit (like Patrick at the end) until Ezra gets a little age on him. Hope you enjoy. If you feel so inclined you can tell me what you think. **


	4. Photographs

**A/N:Another fluffy Ezra, Patrick bit. For those of you who like the more dramatic/angst type of stuff don't worry, his life will get crappy soon enough. **

Mama was going...somewhere with Mrs. Cooke. They were having tea or something Daddy had said, and once again Ezra had a day for just him and Daddy. Ezra knew they would do something special, they always did when it was just the two of them, and he couldn't wait to find out what it was.

"Alright Boy-o," Daddy turned to him with a grin as soon as Mama was gone. "We gotta get dressed."

Ezra's young brows furrowed as he looked down at himself. "We are dressed."

"Not quite good enough." Patrick said as he went over to the wardrobe and pulled out Ezra's _good_ clothes, the ones with the stiff, itchy collar he only wore to church or when they went to visit someone.

Ezra eyed the outfit with horror. "Do I have to wear that?"

"'fraid so, Ez." Daddy said kneeling down to his level.

"Are we goin' to church?" Ezra asked. He never went to visit people with just Daddy and he couldn't think of any other reason he would have to wear _those_ clothes.

"No. But I got a surprise for your mama and we both have look our gentlemanly best for it."

Ezra scowled at the clothes, and Patrick laughed. "Just for a little while, I promise. And when we get done, we'll go get ice cream." Ezra gave the clothes another wary look, before reluctantly nodding. He supposed he could stand the itchy collar for a while...for ice cream anyway.

"Where are we goin'?" Ezra asked as Daddy help him change. Their days together usually started out at the club and he'd never gotten this dressed up for that.

Daddy went over to the dresser and got something before coming back to the bed. Sitting down he pulled Ezra on his lap and showed him a silver locket. "We're goin' to Mr. Crawly's. He's gonna take a photograph of us so we can put it in here for your mama's birthday." Daddy flipped the locket open. "That space is for you and that one's for me. It's so she can always have her boys with her."

Ezra took the locket and studied it seriously for a moment. "She'll like that." Mama said he and Daddy were her boys and she was always telling him how much she loved them.

"I hope so. So," Patrick looked Ezra in the eye. "Can you abide the good clothes for a little while? For your mama?"

Ezra heaved an overly dramatic sigh. "I suppose."

"Good boy." Turning Ezra around to face him Patrick started fixing his son's tie.

"Can we go to the club afterward?" Ezra wasn't supposed to tell Mama about going to the club. He didn't know why. Daddy had just told him that the club was for menfolk and Mama didn't need to know about it. Well, that didn't make a lot of sense to Ezra but he liked going to the club and didn't want to break the rules so he didn't say anything.

"If you want to we can."

"And have coffee?" Ezra asked hopefully.

Daddy looked at him with a grimace. "All right." He finally said. "We can get coffee."

Ezra grinned he liked coffee and the club was the only place he could get. He wasn't sure why but Mama wasn't supposed to know about that either.

* * *

"Ezra!" Patrick cried, a note of desperation in his voice, when Ezra rubbed his eye. "Son, you have to be still."

"I am bein' still." Ezra whined, slumping down in the chair with a pout. He had decided he didn't like having his picture taken. It took to long and he could never be still enough.

Patrick sighed, the photographs had seemed like a much better idea at home. He was asking a lot of Ezra and, bless his heart, the boy was trying, but apparently four-year-olds and photographers had two very different definitions of the word _still_. He went and knelt down in front of Ezra. "I know you are and you've done very good, but you have to be just a little bit more still." Ezra drew his eyebrows together as his pout became more pronounced. "Listen," Patrick continued. "I need you to sit there and be very, very still, you can't move at all, for five minutes."

"Is that a very long time?" Ezra asked. He sounded so miserable is was almost comical.

"It can seem like it." Patrick wasn't going to lie, for a four-year-old five minutes of being completely still could be an eternity. He pulled out his watch and flipped open the lid. "See this hand?" He asked pointing to the second hand. Ezra nodded, his pout fading some as he set forward to see the watch. "When that hand goes all the way around, it's one minute. For five minutes it has to go around five times."

Ezra's eyes grew wide as he watched the slow moving hand. Five minutes was going to take a long, long time.

Patrick's mind began racing as he took in Ezra's look of horror. Ezra could sit still for five minutes, he did it all the time at home, they just needed to find a different approach. "Alright Boy-o, I want you do somethin' for me." The pout vanished from Ezra's face at the prospect of being able to do something to help his daddy. "I want you to sit there and watch me. Don't take your eyes off me. Watch me and I'll let you know when five minutes is over. Can you do that?" Ezra nodded, his eyes serious.

"Good. This is the last time." Patrick went back to the photographer. "Try once more." The other man put another plate in his camera with an exasperated sigh causing Patrick to roll his eyes. So what if they were on the fifth plate? Patrick was paying for them. He turned back to Ezra. "Watch me, Ez. Don't smile, don't scratch, don't turn your head; just watch me." Ezra stared straight at him and didn't move a muscle, exactly like he needed to. Patrick was congratulating himself on finally finding a way of getting the picture when he looked down at his watch. It had only been a minute-and-a-half, and as good as Ezra was doing he likely wouldn't make it to five.

Patrick slipped the watch back into his pocket and pulled his cards from the inside of his jacket. Ezra remained expressionless but his eyes lit up when he saw the cards. Patrick bit back a smile and began cutting the cards with one hand, never taking his eyes off Ezra. The boy was now sitting spellbound and Patrick wondered why he hadn't thought of this four plates ago.

The spell was abruptly broken by a sudden flash. "That's done it." The photographer announced.

Ezra gave Patrick a pleading look. "Can I move now?"

Patrick chuckled. "Yes, Sir, now you can move."

* * *

After their session with the photographer, father and son started for the Jean Lafitte hotel dining room where the promised ice cream would be served. It was on the way to the hotel that Ezra informed Patrick that he never wanted to have his picture taken again. They were halfway through the ice cream when Patrick told Ezra he'd been good enough for two ice creams. As he was finishing the second one Ezra decided that maybe one day he might get his picture taken again.

**A/N: What do y'all think? It seems like the last couple of chapters were missing something. Are they or is it just me? **


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